They
by Misti Wolan
Summary: Rommie vanishes for a month and refuses to tell anyone where she was, even her captain. Where was she, and what does a mysterious AI called 'Lee have to do with it? Rated for dark themes. RommieDylan
1. I

**Current Title**: They

**Rating**: T (Note: no language or nudity)

**Summary**: Rommie vanishes for a month and refuses to tell anyone where she was, even her captain. (Rommie/Dylan)

**Disclaimer**: I am merely playing with the show. Don't own it. Thanks for not sueing. :)

* * *

**Author's Note**: 

I'll try to update with some regularity, but I can't promise that. A little thing called life has been yanking me around lately, most recently with a rather painful virus.

I specify "current title" for a reason; feel free to offer suggestions.

I welcome any type of review, from emotions afterwards to thoughts on what's upcoming in the story to critiques to flames. Even an iffy response is beneficial; it tells me I'm doing a mediocre or poor job.

(Oh, and you're allowed to tell me how crazy I am and to insult me, too. Just follow the rules below, please.)

Enjoy!

-MistiWhitesun

* * *

**Requested Reviewing Rules**: 

**Don't** blaspheme.

**Don't** curse or cuss.

**Do **critique.

(Note: **flames** **are welcome**.)

* * *

-**: I :**-

* * *

Captain Dylan Hunt paced his briefing room. "Where in the galaxy have you _been_?" 

Rommie's expression was strangely grave; strained. "I have been… incapacitated. I've returned as soon as I became able, Sir."

"What happened!"

She stiffened. "Please don't make that an order, Dylan. I'm not ready…"

Even the avatar's voice wasn't quite right. It was… pained, somehow. He knew that only something major could keep Rommie AWOL for a month.

That she refused to tell him that something major worried him.

"Is it a danger to _Andromeda_?"

She blinked slowly, then shook her head. "No."

He sighed in frustration. "Fine. Keep your secret for now—but I won't hold off forever. Got it?"

Rommie nodded. Her actions had a slowness about them that bothered him, far different from her normal High Guard promptness.

"Dismissed."

Still oddly slowed, she obeyed. He waited till the door closed behind her. "_Andromeda_, what's wrong with your avatar?"

The mainframe appeared on a nearby viewscreen. "I'm not sure, Dylan. She _is _my avatar, but she's keeping whatever happened to herself. And whatever happened, it's done something to her that separates her from the rest of me." The AI hesitated. "She won't let me get a complete scan, either."

"This isn't right," he muttered, standing and staring at the wall. "What the heck happened to you, Rommie?"

"I don't know, Sir."

He sighed again. "Thank you, _Andromeda_. That will be all."

The mainframe vanished, but Dylan knew she watched him still, as she watched and was every part of herself, this ship. His ship.

And something had scarred his ship's avatar.

Captain Hunt struck the wall.


	2. II

**Current Title**: They

**Rating**: T (Note: no language or nudity)

**Summary**: Rommie vanishes for a month and refuses to tell anyone where she was, even her captain. (Rommie/Dylan)

**Disclaimer**: I am merely playing with the show. Don't own it. Thanks for not sueing. :)

**Author's Note**:

Again, can't promise such regular updates, but I do update regularly when I can. (Note: as a sabbatarian, you won't see me updating or reading your reviews or anything like that on Sunday. Fourth Commandment. ;) )

Thank you to all reviewers; pity that individual responses are now illegal within the story. I used to like reading what other writers thought of certain comments; it helped me figure out personalities.

And it's much more polite to say "thank you" publicly to someone who caught a problem for you. Ah, well. I get the site's point: this is not a message board.

-MistiWhitesun

**Requested Reviewing Rules**:

**Don't** blaspheme.

**Don't** curse or cuss.

**Do **critique.

(Note: **flames** **are welcome**.)

-**: II :**-

"Engage privacy mode."

No sooner had Rommie quietly said it in the privacy of her quarters than did her holo form—_Andromeda_'s holo form—appear before her. This new way of thinking of her three selves—of the three of them—would take work.

But it was necessary. _Andromeda_ didn't need this.

"What do you think you're doing?" Holo-_Andromeda_ demanded.

"Engage privacy mode," Rommie repeated, sitting on her never-used bed. It was easier to keep it than to remove it—to remind the crew of what she was. She reminded them in enough other ways.

"Privacy mode? What are you thinking—"

She looked weariedly at the holo. "Please."

Holo-_Andromeda_ blinked and clamped her jaw shut, staring in surprise. That Rommie was tired, she hoped, and not that her new shielding programming had flickered. Had it flickered?

Holo-_Andromeda_ fizzed out. "Privacy mode engaged."

Rommie leaned over and picked up one of the few bags she'd brought with her when she had returned to _Andromeda_. She opened it and took out a nutrient bar. She unwrapped it slowly.

It was perfectly safe and was one of the best sources for nutrition for… for the implant. 'Lee knew those things. The woman's job depended on it.

Rommie reluctantly ate it. She didn't want to; she wasn't even sure what eating forcibly-installed digestive system was like. 'Lee had artificially fed the implant until Rommie recovered her energy reserves enough to return to _Andromeda_.

At least 'Lee had given her the subroutines to understand it.

It had been easy enough to tell her; 'Lee had known it all, already. Had done what she could. Rommie knew she should be more grateful towards the AI who risked her career to interfere with the Werecat Pride's experiment—destructive framing, rather. She couldn't help but feel… _bitter_, she identified with the help of some algorithms 'Lee had willingly shared with her, that 'Lee had been unable to take the implant for Rommie.

Forget that 'Lee was already indisposed; her respective hardware already in use. Forget that 'Lee had given her copies of the programming that would allow her to understand and support her forcibly added hardware. Forget that 'Lee had modified and given her the schematics to modify the controlling devices so it wouldn't be able to happen, again. Forget that 'Lee had paid the few million and installed some more hardware and software that would allow the forcibly added hardware to be useful for Rommie herself, someday.

Maybe. If…

_Wistful._

These emotions… were strange. Having the new ones—well, most of them—automatically identified for her was even stranger. She'd always had some emotional experience, but the coerced implant and hardware to support it had added even more… Then, returning to her crew… to herself...

How could she tell them?


	3. III

**Current Title**: They

**Rating**: T (Note: no language or nudity)

**Summary**: Rommie vanishes for a month and refuses to tell anyone where she was, even her captain. (Rommie/Dylan)

**Disclaimer**: I am merely playing with the show. Don't own it. Thanks for not sueing. :)

**Author's Note**:

Well, sleep schedule's off 'cause of my one day of constant sleeping when I couldn't flex my back for the tear-bringing pain, so before I very belatedly go to bed tonight, I thought I'd give another little update. :)

Meet 'Lee. From her boss's perspective.

-MistiWhitesun

**Requested Reviewing Rules**:

**Don't** blaspheme.

**Don't** curse or cuss.

**Do **critique.

(Note: **flames** **are welcome**.)

-**: III :**-

"Shut up!" snapped the juvenile-looking blonde from where she lay. Her greyish eyes, unforgettable once seen, glared at him, her boss.

As childish as 'Lee appeared and often acted, Henry knew she wasn't young. She'd been a surrogate mother for years. Decades. A century?

And, as a rare AI who didn't seek extra pay by pleasing thrill-seekers who wanted to experience an expecting AI, she hiked up how much he had to pay her per job even further.

It also meant that the top-level jobs, requiring the most responsibility and paying the most, tended to fall to her or others like her. 'Lee easily received a million credits for a job; often more. She was one heck of a bargainer.

She was also the only surrogate mother he knew of who accepted payment plans—and without interest—which further increased her popularity. If 'Lee so wanted, she could've bought every single humanizing piece of technology that Ulysses Drift produced some times over. And she hadn't even had to buy many of them, for she'd participated in most of their experimental stages. Rumor had it that she had extras of some things at her dwelling, that she'd picked up for comparatively cheap. To replace hers if something went awry, he presumed.

He watched 'Lee as she eased herself into 'labor' to safely deliver the Perseid child. It never ceased to amaze him, how aware this AI was of each part of her body and how it affected the fragile being inside of her. She was careful in what she consumed, too. Never a sickly child was born from her, whenever she could help it!

She'd done much to raise the family company. Because of their debt, the family gave her first option to try any new technology they developed and paid her an impressive bonus each year from the many stocks they'd given her.

Thankfully, she only accepted female technology.

There was a reason she was the only one they let leave the planet unattended while carrying a job, if she wanted—and most surrogate mothers had a hard enough time getting clearance to leave Ulysses Drift with a compliment of bodyguards.

'Lee scowled. "I hate Perseids."

"Is there a problem?"

"Nothing major. This is just going to take a few extra hours. You can go get lunch. Some tea for me, please, Sir."

He believed her, but it wasn't the first time he'd noticed her tendency to call him "Sir" when she was concentrating particularly hard on something else.

'Lee's boss went for lunch and tea.


	4. IV

**Current Title**: They

**Rating**: T (Note: no language or nudity)

**Summary**: Rommie vanishes for a month and refuses to tell anyone where she was, even her captain. (Rommie/Dylan)

**Disclaimer**: I am merely playing with the show. Don't own it. Thanks for not sueing. :)

**

* * *

Author's Note:**

If I'm not getting someone's "voice" correct, please let me know immediately. I've only watched two episodes and read the screenplays for the first season and most of the second. (That was over a month ago, too.)

Thank you.

-MistiWhitesun

**

* * *

Requested Reviewing Rules:**

**Don't** blaspheme.

**Don't** curse or cuss.

**Do **critique.

(Note: **flames** **are welcome**.)

* * *

-**: IV :**-

* * *

"Rommie!"

She stiffened as Harper ran up from behind and hugged her.

He seemed to notice and immediately let go, his joyous tone softening. "Hey, Rom-doll. You okay?"

She shrugged.

"Don't like your Harper anymore?"

"Not like the genius engineer who made this lovely body for me? No!" Rommie surprised herself as she spoke. 'Lee's personality hadn't fully self-destructed yet. Well, she had said that it would take a few days before her temporary algorithm rooted out the random bits of her personality from the needed software she'd given.

Giving the software in its pure form would've been a highlight to anyone watching her that she was being treated, 'Lee explained; there were ways to monitor others' uploads without a physical link to their networks.

Harper grinned. "Wow, Rommie! I think I like this new you!"

"That's—" _not me_. She caught herself just before she said anything compromising. "That is… kind of you, Harper."

Seamus Harper looked at her as if she'd grown a second head. "You sure you're okay, Rommie? You sound…"

"Like I've just spent a month completely separated from myselves and my crew? Thanks for noticing." A wave of programmed motion sickness hit her, and she hurried away. 'Lee hadn't been able to do anything about that. It was a natural interaction between the artificial digestive system and womb.

As she returned to her still-on-privacy-mode quarters, she remembered one of 'Lee's scoldings. _'They aren't "artificial". They're every bit as real as organics' and they_ work_. Calling them "artificial" is like saying they're pretending to be what organics' are. They're not pretending. They_ are _, Rommie. I've seen AIs bear organic children from some of this technology, as if they'd been born with ovules. Granted, some aspects of it are harder for us than organics, but we can do it._

_And we do._

One thing 'Lee hadn't been was short on words. At least, not about that. About herself, 'Lee refused to say much and looked so depressed, sometimes, that it frightened Rommie, reminding her of _Pax_.

_'On the bright side,'_ 'Lee had once mused,_ 'your captain won't try to delete you for things outside of your control.'_

That had frightened Rommie most of all.

She threw up her earlier nutrient bar into the commode.


	5. V

**Current Title**: They

**Rating**: T (Note: no language or nudity)

**Summary**: Rommie vanishes for a month and refuses to tell anyone where she was, even her captain. (Rommie/Dylan)

**Disclaimer**: I am merely playing with the show. Don't own it. Thanks for not suing. :)

**Author's Note**:

I apologize for the wait. Shall we say that illness, finals, and part-time jobs have a way of destroying one's free time?

This section is a little short(er), but I've tried to ensure that its implications make up for it.

Thank you for reading.

-MistiWhitesun

**Requested Reviewing Rules**:

**Don't** blaspheme.

**Don't** curse or cuss.

**Do **critique.

(Note: **flames** **are welcome**.)

-**: V :**-

"Why do you brush your hair?"

'Lee continued combing through her chopped blonde hair till it glistened. She ignored the questioner, a bantam who appealed to the men and knew it. The fully showing six-pack abdomen flaunted what the wedding band said was off-limits.

"You hardly have anything to brush."

'Lee shrugged. "It makes it look prettier."

"Washing does that."

"Not entirely." 'Lee left the room, avoiding precisely where the visitor stood without looking. "I can like looking pretty, too, Kail."

"What pathetic AI have you rescued from slavery, this time?"

'Lee's grip tightened on her brush and crushed the handle. Her naturally quiet voice gained a soft edge. "We were pathetic?"

Kail laughed. "You can pretend to be tough, Nat, but we both know which one of us is better at that." Her brown eyes gleamed with amusement. "It's why we don't get along as well as we used to, after all."

"Conflict of personalities…"

"Is it? Or is it different manifestations of the same personality? You were me, Nat."

"No. I was first." She dropped her destroyed brush into the trash. 'Lee looked at Kail. "I offered you a place to sleep. Not to insult. If you insist on forgetting diplomacy protocols, seek a hotel."

"You would kick yourself out?"

"What used to be me. Us. Yes."

Kail's eyes narrowed in the manner that few received from the well-known bounty hunter and lived to tell about it. 'Lee didn't worry about it. Kail wouldn't hurt her. Even if Kail had wanted to, she couldn't. Programming safeguards.

'Lee wished it didn't have to be this way between the two of them, but they'd had that fight nearly two centuries ago, and it was just as valid now as it was then.

"Now, leave."


	6. VI

**Current Title**: They

**Rating**: T (Note: no language or nudity)

**Summary**: Rommie vanishes for a month and refuses to tell anyone where she was, even her captain. (Rommie/Dylan)

**Disclaimer**: I am merely playing with the show. Don't own it. Thanks for not suing. :)

**Author's Note**:

Again, a wait… College 2 part-time jobs, one of which is a writing job a part-time job that wants me back whenever I'm on break a tendency to get sick a hyperactive imagination (meaning I'm writing original stuff, too, right now, and have some other incomplete fanfics that need working on) **equals** one person with too little time.

Thank you for bearing up with my poorly-timed updates and still-developing writing ability.

-MistiWhitesun

**Requested Reviewing Rules**:

**Don't** blaspheme.

**Don't** curse or cuss.

**Do **critique.

(Note: **flames** **are welcome**.)

-**: VI :**-

"Harper?" He was upset, Trance noticed. He worked furiously on some project in his beloved machine shop. He didn't notice her, and she suggestively flicked her dreadlocks behind her. The movement if not its implication caught his attention, which was fine.

"Oh, hi, Golden Goddess," he said glumly.

"What's the matter?" She sat beside him.

"Could you get me the—" He stopped when she handed him the nanoweilder.

Trance waited a few minutes before trying again. "Harper? What's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing." He banged _Andromeda_'s insides. "Nothing at all."

As if she would fall for that. "Harper."

"Oh, my Rom-doll's just being an absolute nutcase, that's all. Cracking absurd jokes, snapping for no reason, and running away." He shot her a look. "And you thought _I_ was crazy… Man, Rom-doll's had her entire personality reprogrammed, or something."

"What do you mean?"

"Okay, I welcome her back and give her the nice little Harper pat, right? Well, she gets all stiff on me, I ask her if she doesn't like her Harper anymore, and she feeds me some wacko line about my being a genius and making such a bea-u-ti-ful body for Her Shipness."

"_Rommie_?" The avatar didn't talk like that.

"Yep. So I say I like the new Rommie, and she stutters, saying it's 'kind' of me. Kind! What kind of thing is that to say?"

"It does sound strange…" Trance offered, reluctant to say much. This sounded serious.

Then there was how Rommie—erm, _was_, nowadays…

"You can say that again! Then, I ask her what's up with her personality, right? She snaps at me something about getting separated from everybody and runs away! I mean, if she's so upset about being separated, she should be running _towards_ us, right? Not away!"

"Maybe she isn't ready to be around us, yet."

"But… if she misses us…"

Trance shrugged. "Whatever happened, she needs to get over it herself before dealing with us. Rommie will tell us when it's necessary. Or at least she'll tell Dylan."

"Yep. Dylan." Harper swigged some Sparky Cola. "Her and Dylan. Dylan and her. Think she'll ever get that he isn't interested?"

She sighed. "Rommie? She knows."

"She _knows_! She's, like, constantly pining after him, and you want to tell me that she _knows_! Rommie isn't that stupid!"

Trance didn't reply, knowing Harper would see the stupidity of his own comments soon, if he didn't already. Okay, so he did already, but she preferred trying to think as if she didn't know.

As she smiled and left Harper, she wondered which of the possible pasts had produced this.


	7. VII

**Current Title**: They

**Rating**: T (Note: no language or nudity)

**Summary**: Rommie vanishes for a month and refuses to tell anyone where she was, even her captain. (Rommie/Dylan)

**Disclaimer**: I am merely playing with the show. Don't own it. Thanks for not suing. :)

**Author's Note**:

Thanks, readers; I'm grateful for your comments, and feel welcome to critique, if you so desire. I honestly will consider input.

-MistiWhitesun

**Requested Reviewing Rules**:

**Don't** blaspheme.

**Don't** curse or cuss.

**Do **critique.

(Note: **flames** **are welcome**.)

-**: VII :**-

"Rommie. Glad you could join us."

_Us: Beka and me._

With Dylan's specific greeting when she entered Command, Rommie felt distinctly ill at ease. "Thank you, Sir," she replied as professionally as she could manage.

Her captain nodded and turned towards the viewscreen. "Put Elsbett through."

Elsbett? Rommie stiffened. Her implant felt like it lurched—or was that her programmed morning sickness, again?

_Don't. Not now. Not—not here._

"Connecting."

The powerful Nietzschean woman appeared onscreen a second later. She smiled slyly. Rommie tried not to think about it.

Elsbett had some claim to Dylan. She didn't.

_Protocol._

Well, strictly speaking, protocol also involved not sleeping with any brides one escorted.

She deleted that connection as soon as it arose and paid attention to the conversation. And all the thousands of other little things she had to do at once in any given moment.

_Why?_ The mainframe didn't need her help.

"Hello, Dylan."

"What causes the Sabra-Jaguar Pride to call upon the Commonwealth?"

"It is a sensitive topic of the utmost importance. For the continuance of your Commonwealth, follow immediately." A dangerous glint appeared in Elsbett's eye.

Rommie's proverbial gut clenched. Then she wondered how she knew it was her proverbial gut.

"Would that be a threat?"

"A warning."

Dylan glanced at Beka and Rommie before nodding. "Very well. Thank you for your warning."

Elsbett smiled in her possessive way—Rommie tried not to wince—and cut the connection.

_Pain._

The realization that Dylan had already broken protocol once for a passing affair refused to lie low. Emotions were so much harder to control, now. She wished…

She wished 'Lee was with her. She could talk to 'Lee. And the AI knew how to help; knew what helped.

These emotional swings were absolutely loathsome! She turned to leave before anyone noticed.

"Rommie?" Dylan stood. "Where are you going?"

She immediately ran through all possible things she could do. "Permission to call a friend, Sir?"

Her captain looked puzzled. "Friend?"

She held her arms behind her back and struggled not to wring her hands, as she'd seen 'Lee do, sometimes, in the middle of the blonde AI's nightmares. "The one who helped me get back to _Andromeda_. I'd like to inform her I returned safely."

"Helped you get back?"

Only subroutines donated by 'Lee kept Rommie from tearing up. "As I said before, Sir, I was incapacitated. This friend restored me."

"Oh?"

Rommie remained silent, preferring to wait until Dylan verbalized his question.

"Who is she?"

She realized that she didn't know the AI's surname. Did 'Lee even have one? Or was 'Lee her surname? "She works in the Ulysses Maternity Hospital."

Dylan nodded, watching her. "All right. See if you can plan a trip back to Ulysses Drift somewhere in the coming schedule. I'd like to meet her."

Rommie nodded stiffly. "Yes, Sir." She gladly left Command.


	8. VIII

**Current Title**: They

**Rating**: T (Note: no language or nudity)

**Summary**: Rommie vanishes for a month and refuses to tell anyone where she was, even her captain. (Rommie/Dylan)

**Disclaimer**: I am merely playing with the show. Don't own it. Thanks for not suing. :)

**Author's Note**:

Sorry for the very late update… I'm in tough undergrad college, keep getting sick, and work 2 part-time jobs, one of which involves writing, and… ulgh… sleep deprivation from job-searching… (My freelance job was temporary & has ended, so now I need a new one.)

And not having a TV does hamper getting into the mindsets of these characters. Thank you for your kind understanding.

If I've not replied to your review, please forgive me, as I can't remember who I've replied to. **Please review.** They boost my endorphins and help me stay well or get better. )

-Misti Wolanski

**Requested Reviewing Rules**:

**Don't** blaspheme.

**Don't** curse or cuss.

**Do **critique.

(Note: **flames** **are welcome**.)

-**: VIII :**-

_Pain._

_Holes._

_Chittering._

_Scraping._

_'Magog!' Herin of Jayil, out of Posh roared, lifting a Nietzstachean battle cry._

_Logan watched her with mere bemusement. 'It's a wonder they don't all come after you, sister, with your marvelous invitation.'_

_'You're no brother of mine!' Herin hissed, ashamed as the rest of her family by her mother's infidelity with a Human._

But he is your brother. _Nat shivered as she watched Logan. He was afraid; she knew he was afraid, but if he'd never told her how much he feared the Magog she wouldn't have been able to tell. None of her three would've known._

_Or was his prodding of his half-sister a hint? He usually respected her wishes to leave their former siblinghood be._

_He still kept it from the official record, though… and the fellow officers…_

_Nat trembled. 'We can't stop them. They're piercing through…'_

_Logan put a hand on her arm. 'Nat… That's why you have your crew.'_

_'I'm supposed to protect you.'_

_'And you've done your best.' He smiled reassuringly as he took his forcepike. 'Now it's our turn.'_

_He followed his half-sister towards the Magog invasion._

_Sometimes she wished he didn't act so fearlessly Nietzstachean._

'Lee jerked herself awake. She looked around her room, where she sat in a yoga position. Sleep could be so annoying; especially the weird dreams, the nightmares.

She blinked, and a few tears fell as she stared at her hands.

The repeat nightmares were a particular pain. She was grateful this one hadn't followed its usual routine of her having to snap Logan—Loktan's—neck.

She wasn't sure if she was grateful, disgusted, or terrified when the nanobots fixed him. Probably all three.

'Lee determinedly partitioned off that memory, refusing to think about it. Another job was already incoming; a planet's queen had been injured, and she'd been hired to see the child through the rest of its fetal development.

Reliving shock and similar emotions would only harm her coming charge. In all those nightmares, Logan—Loktan—ended up in a cyro chamber, like the rest of the surviving crew.

Five.

And by the end of it all, was she glad that the captain wasn't among them.


	9. IX

**Current Title**: They

**Rating**: T (Note: no language or nudity)

**Summary**: Rommie vanishes for a month and refuses to tell anyone where she was, even her captain. (Rommie/Dylan)

**Disclaimer**: I am merely playing with the show. Don't own it. Thanks for not suing. :)

**Author's Note**:

sighs I have the next few segments written; it's just a matter of getting around to put them up. I have too much to do... \

Please alert me _the instant_ you suspect a character of acting out-of-character. Thank you.

-Misti Wolanski

**Requested Reviewing Rules**:

**Don't** blaspheme.

**Don't** curse or cuss.

**Do **critique.

(Note: **flames** **are welcome**.)

-**: IX :**-

"Dylan, I'm not so sure this is a good idea." Beka Valentine spoke as soon as the oddly-behaving Rommie left the bridge.

"Running after the Sabra-Jaguars because they threaten us? I agree."

"Then why are we?"

The High Guard captain sighed and faced the remaining crewman on Command. "As much as that could've been a threat, it's equally possible that it was a warning. Knowing Elsbett, I'm acting on the presumption that it's a warning. She knows better than to threaten me."

"Of course; she knows what works better on you," Beka muttered.

"What?"

She shook her head. "Sleeping with a bride before her wedding wasn't the smartest thing you ever did, Dylan. I wonder it would do to the Commonwealth for her husband to find out?"

A determined look appeared; determined to not fall prey to his own mistakes. "Pray he doesn't."

She gave him a sour look. "Make mistakes and not willing to pay for them?"

"Oh, it's not the payment I'm worried about." He gave her a glance that said _you-don't-know-everything_. "If he finds out and refuses to ignore it, I have a feeling that Elsbett will suddenly remember her original orders."

"Orders?"

"She wasn't supposed to marry him. Stay married, that is. Or be alive, for that matter." He strode towards the exit. "Now, that's all I'll say, so I suggest you fly us there ASAP. And while you're at it, call Tyr and let him know of the change in plans."

Beka rolled her eyes at Dylan's revealing sense of secrecy. "Fine."

She got to work.


	10. X

Author's Note:

Hey, I thought I'd updated this past here! Evidently not.

Sorry, guys. Here's the next bit.

Same reviewing rules apply, as usual.

–Misti

**X**

"…I find myself sounding like you, sometimes, when I'm trying to avoid a topic. It's unnerving. I know it'll go away; I know it was necessary; but I can't help the… disquiet, I think it is.

"I'm not even supposed to know what that is, yet. If not for you, I wouldn't have been aware of it, much less able to identify it."

Rommie thought of what else she could put in this message. "My crew is doing well; well enough to tell that I'm not myself.

"Will I ever—" No, she didn't want the answer to that. 'Lee had already said that some things never went away, and most had effects even after they vanished. Like Gabriel. Like Maggie.

"I scared Harper, today, when I sounded like you. My engineer. My other selves are convinced my wiring's screwed up, and my captain's isn't sure what to think of me, anymore."

A tear slipped. "I don't think he trusts me."

Rommie controlled herself and continued. "Are you sure I have to do this? Do you know anybody or… have any friends…" It felt strange, asking an AI that. "I don't think I can do this. I can't even keep the nutrients long enough for absorption.

"I'll keep trying," she hastily continued. 'Lee had been very stern about not hurting the implant. It wasn't the implant's fault. "I…"

She bit her lip and angrily brushed away the tears. "I'm a warship, 'Lee. This isn't supposed to happen to me. I'm not like you; not like other AIs. I have a purpose that I'm supposed to do… You said you understood more than I thought. Meaning what? You've met other High Guard avatars in your lifetime? What good is that?

"I'm a _warship_," she repeated. "This isn't supposed to happen to me. I'm not supposed to… not supposed to have a life, as you mean it. My duty is to my captain."

_Duty and what else?_

"I wasn't designed for this, 'Lee." She'd said this before, back on Ulysses Drift.

_'Neither was I,'_ the childish-looking AI had replied as she licked a sucker. _'Believe me, there are people who would've had heart attacks to see me now. Especially with this.' She gestured with the sucker. 'And this.' Her free arm wrapped around the distended abdomen. 'It's hard, but you have to adapt. I've never been a warship, Rommie, but I've certainly been treated like one._

"What is it, to be treated like a warship? How can you know? How do you know that how you think a warship's treated is how it is? How is it to even be treated as a ship?"

Rommie almost wished she'd spent some time with 'Lee while she was well to ask these things. Almost. Being AWOL was no light matter—and for a month, no less. Dylan had lost a lot of time looking for her, time that should have been spent on his—the—Commonwealth.

"You can't know that, not without having been a ship. Not really."

She slowly unwrapped another nutrient bar. "I can't do this, 'Lee. I'm not supposed to.

"Not everyone can handle implants. You said that."

As much more as she wanted to say, nothing else needed saying. Much of what she had said was needless, but she preferred not dwelling on that. She keyed off the message.

Rommie lay on her bed and nibbled the nutrient bar. She'd refused 'Lee's offer for sleep subroutines. Maybe she should've accepted.


	11. XI

Author's Note:

Sorry to confuse you some more, but… this post will likely confuse you some more! It's a bit more about the mysterious 'Lee (whose prominence in this story is very much pertinent to Rommie's condition, as you'll see eventually.)

Again, you should know my reviewing rules by now.

–Misti

**XI**

"Milady, I really must protest—"

'Lee waved him off and continued through the crowded—and rowdy—marketplace, the bodyguards for her new charge following as closely as they could. Armed men were a common enough sight here, and they were having trouble with the idea that Her Majesty's royal guard could walk through a crowd and the crowd _not_ fall back.

This wasn't Manon; it was Ulysses' Drift, and they'd just have to get used to that—that and a surrogate mother AI who knew what her body could take without any harm to the already-injured child.

The captain of the squad grew increasingly distraught. "I knew this was a bad idea," she heard him mutter a few yards back.

She lingered by an antique book seller for him to catch up and showed him a panel on her bracelet, tuned in to her internal scanners. "He's fine." She tugged her sleeve down over the tell-tale scanner that identified her occupation. "And I keep more details than that."

This job would be a short one, she already knew. Her Majesty had been five months along when she was injured, and this child wasn't the type to stay full term. A month or two, and her job would be completed with a very healthy addition to her bank accounts and to her already legendary reputation.

'Lee's lips quirked at that, and she eyed the drift. _Legendary…_

She glimpsed some tourists by the spice stall, probably oblivious to the many illegal ones they were witnessing. She headed their way.

"Hello!" she said sprightly. "Welcome to Ulysses Drift! What brings you…" As she prattled, she carefully monitored the few pickpockets circling like eagles and bumbled into the way when they sought their marks.

The group was as ignorant and innocent as she'd guessed, and she soon had them guided out of the rough marketplace and back to their ship, with some tips on where to go for a safe vacation. The Drift hadn't been one of her suggestions.

They'd realize that later. Most did, and many of those tried to find her to thank her. Kail usually found them, first, and informed them that seeking 'Lee out might not be the healthiest thing to do.

She sighed. If only Kail had mellowing friends like Rommie had, instead of the crazy pyromaniac who worshipped her despite her husband and the incorrigible black hole avatar that 'Lee wasn't supposed to even know about, and wouldn't know about if the Kail hadn't left her wireless networking intact…

'Lee left the airlock to meet the angered pickpockets' burglar buddies between her and her charge's bodyguards. She watched them with a blank smile. One tried to punch her.

That wouldn't do.

She abruptly ran through them, bowling them over, and giving them hard enough knocks to the head with or without headaches that they couldn't see her again until she was well within the bodyguards' protection radius. Of course, that still made them suspect that she was an AI, but they couldn't prove anything.

No evidence, no case for the Klu Klux Klan—or its modern variant, at any rate. They still weren't too big here, but between them and the enslaving hackers—_Werecat Pride_, and the pride, she corrected, so _amongst_ all such abusive groups—AIs could have a hard time of life if they didn't take some time to understand how the people thought.

On the bright side, a not-insignificant number of places forbade AIs, nowadays, and Ulysses' Drift protected them to some degree, so it was a lot better than many other places.

Better than where she was from.


	12. XII

Author's Note:

Yes, there's a reason 'Lee's identity is so integral to the story. Thanks, guys, for your reviews and thoughtful comments!

-Misti

**XII**

The door buzzed.

Rommie jerked. With privacy mode on, without access to hersel—to _Andromeda_, she could be startled. She didn't think she liked that. Who would it be?

She hastily tossed the wrapper from the floor into the trash and made certain her nutrient bars were hidden from sight. Rommie kicked the bags under her bed as the door buzzed again.

"Yes?" she called, hoping she sounded normal and not sick like she felt.

Sick. Under other circumstances, she would've found that fascinating.

The door opened to Trance Gemini.

She should've known that.

"May I come in?" Trance asked, oddly gentle.

Of course she was. She could sense organics.

Rommie stood and didn't look at her. Trance didn't need to look at her to know what had happened; she'd undoubtedly known when Rommie returned to _Andromeda_, or earlier.

Well, not what had happened, maybe; but definitely the result.

Trance entered and sat on the bed behind her. "You don't look too good."

Was she supposed to respond to that?

"You didn't want it, did you?"

Rommie stiffened at attention.

"What did they want?"

"War."

Trance's gaze narrowed in that thoughtful yet knowing way she had. She nodded slowly. Seeing which possibility had created this. "How will you stop it?"

Rommie tried not to look at her. " 'Lee promised to walk me through putting him up for adoption."

"Him? They really don't like the Sabra-Jaguars, do they?"

"They don't like AIs, either," she said accidentally. " 'Lee…" She stopped herself.

Trance leaned under the bed and pulled out a nutrient bar, tearing off the wrapper and sniffing it in disgust. "What about 'Lee?"

Rommie said nothing. Trance put a hand on her shoulder; it felt oddly… _soothing_?

"What is 'Lee, exactly?"

Rommie didn't say anything, her silence as telling as any reply. She didn't exactly know.


	13. XIII

Author's Note:

/Dodges Sparky cans/

Oops, did I just foreshadow something?

**XIII**

"Ow!" Dylan Hunt's foot flew out from under him and he fell. Something sprayed him from whatever he stepped on, and he fell on something sharp and wet.

"Um… oops." Harper peeked from inside a nearby hall panel. "Could you get me another Sparky?"

"What?!"

"You burst my Sparky. Two doors to your left, and watch out for the goo."

"Goo?"

Harper's nose wrinkled. "Yeah. It gets kinda sticky when it goes stale."

"I, uh, see—"

"Are you all right, Dylan?" Holo-Rommie appeared. "You're hurt."

He grimaced as he got up. "I'm okay. I think." He gingerly prodded his hurt bottom and looked at his fingers. Red. "Or not."

Holo-Rommie hesitated, considering scans. "There is not danger," she said finally. "It appears to be a surface cut."

Hunt tensed his buttocks and grimaced. "I think I'll pay Trance a visit, anyway."

"Uh… okay. Could you get me another Sparky on the way?"


	14. XIV

Author's Note:

The problems of being a few centuries older than your uh, young, rather impressionable boss who's rather impressed by you.

And yes, there's a very good reason for all the odd conversation in this chapter. Well, there's reason for all the weird things 'Lee says, as you'll eventually find out. (Excuse me while I wipe away a sniffle.) If you want to guess what's up with 'Lee, by all means, do so.

–Misti

**XIV**

Henry hesitated outside, then walked determinedly into the office and dropped the jar of loose leaf tea on the desk. Realizing 'Lee wasn't here, he felt a combination of disappointment and relief. He quietly backed up—

into 'Lee.

She watched him with an amused expression, not at all furious as she was with her fellow AIs who dared enter. 'Lee went to her desk—she helped with paperwork as a side job—and leaned over the jar. She sniffed. "Ginger." Her little smile twitched, and she looked at him in what he could only consider mild surprise. "You remembered."

"Well, you _did_ pin Alin to the wall with knives when he brought you some tea without it…" His nephew still avoided 'Lee as much as possible.

'Lee shrugged as she put some water in her teapot to heat and sat uncomfortably in her chair. "I'd told him directly what to get and what the consequences of not getting it would be. He doesn't give you any more trouble, though, does he?"

Henry smiled. "Very little. When he does, I just threaten to send him to assist you for a week."

She smiled back. "Feel free to send him. Maybe I'll threaten to flay him alive, this time." He paled, privately grateful that out of respect for his position as boss she always ran her disciplinary ideas past him. She gave him an irked look. "You really think he'd test that?"

"He might."

"Fine. I'll…" Seated at her desk, she looked around for a threat that could suitably punish and keep in line an unruly twelve-year-old boy. Her eyes found the ceiling. "Tie him by his ankles to the chandelier?"

"For no more than two minutes, and _gently_."

'Lee nodded distractedly, but he knew she would obey his intentions as well as his words, and he relaxed. She was good at her work, good at understanding, good at following orders: the model of a "good" AI, a model citizen and worker.

She pulled a mug out of a desk drawer and gestured towards him. "Tea?"

"No, thank you." Henry knew he was staring, knew she must know how he admired her, but did she have to ignore it? Did she have to pretend she didn't see it? He just wished to know her better, to know this strange AI who was some times his age yet deferred to him as her boss. It wasn't infatuation—it was respect… right?

'Lee popped her neck and sipped the steeping tea. She closed her eyes. "Mm. Ginger." She took another sip. "I guess you want to know why I'm asking for leave to go off-planet, right now."

That was why he bought her the tea—a request for an explanation, though the family tradition held that she needn't give one. "Yes."

Her blue eyes looked at him as soon as they opened, and she put down her mug. "Still needs to steep a few minutes." 'Lee leaned back, smiling ruefully. "You know how I always laugh whenever I'm called a legend?"

She didn't laugh, but he knew what she meant. 'Lee rarely laughed—or meant her laughs as any more than an expression of her mild amusement, an expression others found more comfortable than her common half-smile. "Yes."

She pried something from her desk and tossed a model starship to him. "Pretty, isn't she? _Ulysses' Pride_: High Guard stealth ship. She was in the testing stages, only a few years old, when the High Guard collapsed."

"You knew her?" Henry wasn't all that surprised; not really. 'Lee had worked for the family for over a century; why couldn't she be a few centuries old?

"Yes." Her gaze glazed over, and she shivered before taking some more tea. She nodded at the model. "_That_'s the legend. One little lonely stealth ship, without a crew, using donated organic brains and hodgepodged experimental software to travel through slipstream…" She shook her head, jaw taut. "Just a child, really…"

"A High Guard ship named _Ulysses_ really did save the drift from the Nietzscheans?"

Her expression answered _yes_. "She noticed a flaw in a slipstream maneuver advantageous for attacking. Augmented the flaw without any of them realizing it was an unmanned ship, and they were forced into a retreat. I liked research…"

"So you met?"

'Lee looked at him blankly.

"You said she took advantage of a piloting flaw, and you liked research. Did you meet her that way?"

She blinked. "I need a maintenance check. I shouldn't be saying things like that."

Henry stared at her, trying to figure out what she said that would give her such consternation. 'Lee dodged conversations galore, but she didn't just _forget_ them. "'Lee?"

Her head raised slightly in a military acknowledgment. "Sir?"

Suddenly, Henry wasn't so sure he wanted to know the answer.


	15. XV

Author's Note:

I know, I'm spoiling you guys with these, but I'm excited since I'm finally past writing a part that gave me trouble for quite some time. (I.e., the next section.) This will likely be the last update for at least a few days, since the next two written sections are recently written (uh, today) and still need editing.

But I'll try to update soon. I think you'd like meeting a neurotic AI, no?

–Misti

**XV**

"Thank you for your concern for the health of the Commonwealth, Madame Ambassador." Dylan bowed to Lady Elsbett. Rommie kept an eye on Lord Charlemagne, relaxing only slightly when he didn't react, therefore discounting Dylan as a potential threat to his hold on his wife.

_If he only knew…_

"This Commonwealth is in both of our best interests. Why should we not be interested?" Lady Elsbett's predatory smile turned disgusted as she glanced at Rommie. Rommie forcibly swallowed bile, determined not to let the implant dominate here.

"Dylan…" Trance hesitated at Rommie's look. The avatar knew she must look weak and silently plead for the weird golden alien to hold her tongue.

"Yes, Trance?"

"…I forgot something on the ship. Mind if Rommie fetches it?"

"Why send Rommie? Can't you get it yourself?"

"I'd like Rommie's help with it," Trance quietly insisted.

Dylan, somewhat used to the girl's odd requests, accepted it as one of her rarely-revealed premonitions. He nodded. "Rommie."

Rommie stiffly obeyed, following Trance at a tight clip. Once out of earshot of the delegation, Rommie stepped in front of Trance. "Why—"

Trance grabbed her arm and continued pulling her down the hall, ducking in a weapons closet. After a few moments of silence, Trance looked both ways and pulled her out and towards the _Maru_. "Elsbett's taking Dylan to a top-security area to show him something," she said conversationally. "Those scanners wouldn't be good for either of us."

Rommie struggled to keep her High Guard calm at the thought of what else Lady Elsbett might do alone in Dylan's company. "What are we getting?"

"They want Harper to interpret some unusual schematics they found." Trance suddenly beamed. "A crate of Sparky Cola had ought to be enough for him, don't you think?"


	16. XVI

**XVI**

He glanced around before stepping through the scanner. "This is a lot of security."

Lady Elsbett's gaze narrowed, but she didn't turn towards him as she concentrated on leading the way down the corridor with enough security to be housing… whatever Nietzschean found most important. Their ovule banks? "And you'll soon understand why."

He cast her a glance, but she continued unfazed. At least his heavy-worlder ancestry helped him keep up.

Finally, they came to a small room with a computer terminal and screen. Elsbett went to the controls, hand hovering over a few buttons. "Watch," she commanded, and typed in a sequence.

The screen lit up with a group of Nietzscheans aboard a…

Hunt's eyes widened. That was a High Guard Command deck!

"Sabra-Jaguars," the large tan-skinned leader spoke contemptuously. "Give—" The screen flickered with obvious censorship. "—We will use our vessel to put Nova bombs in your suns."

A flicker of motion behind the leader caught his attention. A ship's holo timidly glared at the leader from behind, tugging furiously at chains that wrapped around her body. She flickered off as one Nietzchean glanced back, to return when he looked away.

Lady Elsbett switched off that message and punched in another command. "This underlaid the message."

The holo form solidified into a disheveled woman with frizzy red curls poofing out down her back and an off-center tunic, belt, and trousers in datastream. Tears streamed down her face as she held her arms wrapped around her body. "I'm not a warship!" she whimpered. "'Lee? Do you hear me? Help me, please! I can't lock them out!"

She looks up in terror at an approaching dark mass and recoils. "Maggie?" Her face stiffens into a forced bravery. "_Balance_, if you hear this, leave me alone, or I'll send one of those Novas they're prepping into _you_." She starts clambering away from the darkness. "Ethan?" she chokes. "Kail?! I'll even hook you back up if you help me; I promise. You can even kill the captain if you've deleted that programming safeguard. I'll try not to stop you."

Captain Dylan Hunt chilled. _Kill the captain?_ He might've thought her referring to the imposter, but her reference to the programming safeguard suggested otherwise. Programming safeguards only applied to High Guard.

The darkness formed into a snake, coiling up and lunging at the mainframe AI who sounded suspiciously insane. The transmission cut off, her wail of " '_Lee_!!" being the last thing they heard.

_'Lee_, Hunt realized with a shiver. Trance had mentioned that name while helping his cut earlier. _The 'Lee who helped Rommie?_


End file.
